Round One: He'll ask me on a Date || Peter ft. ↔ Titus
Peter had hardly moved from his bed since he got from the hospital, he most likely smelled bad and was definitely not clean and yet so many of his friends had come to visited him, to support him. It was an amazing feeling to know that you're cared for. And then there was Titus, who despite seeing him like this, took care of him for a night and asked him on a date. After Peter's sleep that seemingly felt like the best night of his life he woke up to Titus and a present. To his surprise it was a custom made Armani suit. He was at a loss as to how Titus knew his measurements, or even how he knew to pick out something so perfectly fitting to his taste, however, one thing he knew is that he needed to shower before being permitted to go anywhere. He lifted himself out of bed and carefully made his way to his bathroom before stopping in the mirror. Peter looked himself over, completely discontent that he allowed himself to become this way. He carefully peeled off the old gauze bandage, revealing his cut that was surrounded in an artistically beautiful range of colors before undressing completely. Peter slowly stepped into the shower, turned on the water and began to lather himself, making sure not to get any sort of soap in his wound. After stepping out of the shower Peter took out his first aid kit and replaced the bandage, being sure not to place any tape near his stitches. It wasn't as nicely done as his nurse's handiwork but it'd do the job. He made his way out into his room, still in his tower as he heard the click of his front door. Uncertain of whom it could be he shrugged it off, honestly even if he wanted to he couldn't defend himself in this state. "Titus? Is that you?" he called out, before dropping his towel and pulling up his tight briefs. "I'm naked, don't come up yet!" Peter quickly walked over to his dresser and pulled on a form-fitting white v-neck, if it was Titus he didn't want him seeing his bruises. "Hello?" he called out as he bit his thumbnail.
